


What's so happy about a new year?

by Lingeringchaos



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, Past Character Death, References to Depression, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus, Underswap Papyrus, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 11:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lingeringchaos/pseuds/Lingeringchaos
Summary: Edge doesn't see the point in celebrating a new year. Edge doesn't see the point in celebrating anything at all, really.Stretch can find a few reasons.





	What's so happy about a new year?

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, this is NOT my usual writing okay? It's kind of really sad. 
> 
> WARNINGS: Mention of Major Character Death. Slight implied suicidal ideation. Symptoms of depression. Unhealthy coping mechanisms. Self-harm. 
> 
> Okay, like, HUGE trigger warning, okay? If you've lost a loved one this is probably going to hurt. Maybe it'll be cathartic. Just be safe okay? I don't want to make my readers sob incoherently unless they want to.

Edge didn’t understand the concept of ‘New Years’. Were humans so pretentious that they seriously celebrated each year as they came? What was the point of it? Then again, humans lived for such a short amount of time, maybe each year was truly precious. He supposed when you only had 80 to 100 years to live why not celebrate each one? So of course Blue, Stretch, Classic and Papyrus had dragged Edge to celebrate the stupid human holiday with them.

He didn’t see the point in celebrating any stupid human holiday. Especially a stupid holiday saying ‘goodbye’ the old year and ‘celebrating’ the coming of the new one. Edge clenched his fists within his pockets listening to the sound of the snow crunching beneath his boots. The night had been ‘fun’ he supposed.  They had played cards, they had drank, and they had been a group of idiots. It, well, it had been sort of nice?

Edge had enjoyed watching a very drunken Blue kiss Classic of all people, and he had shoved Stretch away from himself when midnight struck. As his ‘friends’ began heading to bed one by one around him he grew more and more restless. Edge had been awake and alone for an hour after the last one awake, Stretch, had bid him goodnight. Edge couldn’t sleep, so he walked. The human suburban town Stretch and Blue called home was silent, and the fresh air was pleasant. It wasn’t as cold as Snowdin, or at least not as cold as _his_ Snowdin.

Edge wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. _He was restless._ He just wanted to sleep. _Forget everything._ Sleep for days even. _Never wake up._ Forget the stupid human holiday, forget Stretch trying to steal a kiss-

Edge let out a slow breath his soul pounding. He walked faster as the restless energy grew. _Anxiety_. What had Stretch been thinking _?_ Had Edge sent subconscious signals? Sure, Edge bantered with the lazy walking ashtray, and alright, he thought Stretch was good looking, and in another world or universe maybe Edge might have been interested. But He wasn’t interested. _He couldn’t be interested. Because. . . because. . . Because **Sans-**_

“Stars dammit,” Edge hissed clutching his chest. The wave of pain was intense enough to bring the captain of the royal guard to his knees.

“fuck!” Edge hissed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. The crushing intense pain swallowed him whole. He hated this. _He hated this._ He would _not_ cry. He would not let _this feeling_ control him. If he took a breath, he’d sob. He knew how this worked by now, and there was nothing to hit. _Except himself._

Edge slammed his left fist into his right shoulder repeatedly, long after the crack of bone splitting sounded, he hit until the pain of the wound distracted him from _that feeling._ He took a sharp breath, his non existent lungs thankful for the air that he wasn’t sure he even needed and Edge swallowed down the crushing wave of grief that had paralyzed him. He focused on the stabbing pain of his shoulder instead.

 Edge panted hard as he trembled staring down at the snow. Because that’s what the crippling waves were. Grief. It was like living on the ocean. Sometimes the waters were still, he didn’t even know they were _there._ Sometimes they roared and crashed against him, tried to knock him down, and they hurt but were manageable. _ignorable_. But sometimes they were entirely overwhelming consuming every piece of him. Like what had just happened. His only option was to let the wave take him, to _feel_ it which resulted in Edge sobbing like a fucking infant in gross wet gasps or to hurt himself, and distract himself from it.

Edge always chose option B. He refused to be weak. He couldn’t be weak. _The only person who could pick him back up when he fell to pieces was gone._

Edge snarled, and a wave of bone attacks launched from him at a poor unfortunate tree. The attack was loud and harsh causing the tree to split.

Well fuck.

Edge forced himself to his feet and quickly walked away, back towards the house. He did not want to explain to two human officers why he was knocking down trees at 4 AM on New Year’s morning. Edge sighed staring up at the sky. He stared at the millions upon millions of stars.

Sans had loved this kind of view. He had never gotten sick of the sky. Could he see them now? _Don’t be stupid Papyrus. Dust can’t see anything._

It had been so stupid. _So stupid._ So unfair. They were supposed to die together. In the heat of glorious battle, defending one another until the bitter end. Sans’s death had been so ridiculous. So random, so  meaningless.

Edge stopped in his tracks. It had been entirely meaningless. Sans hadn’t died defending someone from an attack, or defending himself, or in a blaze of glory. He didn’t die to some foe or in a fight or for what was right. He died in a freak car accident. From some stupid human, just a kid. They were a new driver and had sped through the red light, and hit Blue’s car. Blue had hardly survived and Blue had the HP to spare. Sans didn’t.

Edge hadn’t even been there. Edge had been with fucking Undyne, enjoying a few drinks. His big brother had taken his last breath as Edge was laughing and drinking and Edge hadn’t _felt a thing._ Weren’t you supposed to? When someone that close died? Weren't you supposed to feel it in your soul?

He had gotten the call from Stretch.

“ _Edge. . . Where are you?”_

_“With Undyne, the fuck do you want Ashtray?”_

_“. . .I need you to- you need to-” Stretch’s voice broke, and it sounded like Stretch was fighting back tears._

_“Step outside. Get in your car or something I – I have bad news. I don’t want to tell you this over the phone but It’s already all over the Undernet I don’t want you to find out **that way.** ”_

_Edge had frowned and rolled his eyes. What the fuck was this prick on about? Edge sighed, telling Undyne he’d be right back. The fish had hardly responded she was staring at her phone open mouthed, her good eye bulging._

_"P-Papyrus wait!"_

_Edge stepped outside of the bar and leaned against the wall, lighting up a cigarette. His guilty pleasure._

_“Alright, I’m alone, what is it?” Edge snapped._

_“I… there was an – ” Stretch choked._

_“The fuck is wrong with you? You're pissing me off, spit it out,” Edge snapped._

_“Red is- Red’s dead.”_

_. . ._

_Edge stared ahead processing the words. Red is dead? Sans is dead? Impossible._

_“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. He and Blue, they got in an accident. I’m at the hospital right now, Blue is- Blue is critical they’re not sure if he’s going to make it and Red- R-Red d-died on impact.” Stretch broke out into sobs. Edge couldn’t think. Edge couldn’t breathe. Edge couldn’t **feel.**_

_“I w-wanted to tell you in person but fucking people are already posting shit about it on the Undernet. I didn’t want **you** to find out that way. . .” _

Edge sucked in a sharp breath willing the memory to go away. He had gotten in his car, like nothing was wrong. He had sat there for a full three minutes before he screamed, cried, and torn the fucking inside of his car apart. To this day Edge didn’t know how long it took him to arrive at the hospital. How long it took him to build up some fucking kind of composure. How that composure had shattered to pieces upon seeing Stretch’s face at the hospital, Blue unconscious with all the wires, and the **_fucking box the doctors gave him. All that was left of his brother. His d u s t._**

It _hurt_. Fuck it hurt so much. How could the world just carry on? How could people just go about their lives? How could there still be people enjoying their lives non the wiser that the most precious thing in the world was gone? How could the world keep spinning without Sans in it?

Edge snarled as another wave of grief hit. He couldn’t fight this anymore. He was so tired of fighting this. He was so tired of feeling this. This constant ache. _It never went away._ It was always there. Sometimes it ebbed away but it always came back with a stinging crippling blow.

The first broken sob that escaped him was like a damn bursting. Edge threw himself into Blue and Stretch’s shed slamming the door shut, slid against the door and let the sobs rake him. His whole body spasmed and he gasped from the force of it, the tears spilled down from his sockets in twin rivers.

It wasn’t fair.

He and Sans were supposed to be together forever. Sans was his **_everything._**

“D-didn’t you know th-that you asshole?” Edge said to the ceiling another series of sobs slicing through him. “How am I fucking supposed to do this Sans? How am I supposed to live in a world _without you in it?”_ Edge demanded.

He didn’t get an answer. But of course, he never did. After Sans had died, he had wanted to see him so bad. He told himself it was for ‘one last time’ to ‘know’ that Sans went on in some way. Edge was never religious. He believed what he could see and touch. Evidence. Sans was the whimsical one. Mooning after twinkling lights in the surface ceiling, sky, whatever it was, explaining they were burning balls of fire. Supposedly that was true and there was proof. They could prove the lights in the sky were balls of fire, but no one could prove if there was life after dust?

And he had never cared about that. When it was Edge's time he thought he’d be relieved to embrace the dark nothingness. To rest. But the idea of Sans just not existing, just _ceaseing_ destroyed him. He couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t accept that his brother was no longer. That he would never see him again. He _needed_ Sans to go on in some kind of way. He needed to know he was waiting for him ‘on the other side’. Because he couldn’t handle the alternative. It was too terrible to contemplate.

So, he had searched. With all their magic and science why couldn’t they prove there was a life after this? With the knowledge of SOULS why couldn’t they prove some form of existence went on? That there was ‘another side’? Oh, monsters believed in that generally. The soul shattered, your physical essence dusted, but _you_ started your new journey or some bullshit.

There were ghost monsters, right? They had lives before, right? All the ones Edge had spoken to after Sans had dusted stated tget remembered very little of their living lives, but that was _something_ right? Edge had searched and searched and had no conclusive evidence that somehow, someway Sans ‘went on’.

The queen, Toriel, had told him that that's what faith is about. You didn’t have proof, it was something you _had_ to believe in. Sounded like a bunch of fucking bullshit, and the queen of monsters had listened to his colorful reply with a sad smile. Edge had even begged the sky, the angel, and Sans for signs. The closest thing Edge got to a fucking sign was his star damned clock always getting stuck to 4:20. It was just an old fucking clock. But Stretch took that as some holy grail of signs because 4:20 apparently had something to do with smoking weed.

Edge _hated_ that fucking habit of Sans’s. Now he would literally kill to come home to the house with that putrid smell and Sans's nervous grimace. 

_"H-hey Boss you're home early!?"_

Edge took a long breath; his sobbing had finally stopped thank fucking Asgore. His nonexistent throat hurt, his skull hurt, and his sockets felt weird. He was so fucking weak.

He would have given anything to see his brother one more time. Anything to hear his brother’s voice, until he _did._

Two days after the accident Classic and Papyrus had come to Stretch’s universe to support Stretch and Edge. Edge had been staying with Stretch and both had hardly left an unconcious Blue alone at the hospital. Edge couldn't go home. _He couldn't face it._

The minute Classic walked into the hospital room had been like a punch in the gut. Blue didn’t look like Sans the way Classic did. Blue didn’t _sound_ like Sans the way Classic did. Edge had fallen apart the minute Classic had spoken. And when fucking Classic hugged him _it felt just like Sans._

It was unbearable.

But that was four and a half years ago. He could bear to see Classic now, listen to his stupid puns, hear his voice with out the overwhelming sting. It still came sometimes, not that he'd ever tell Classic. And Edge was happy Blue recovered, he truly, truly was. _He just wished Sans had survived too._

Edge growled rubbing at his sockets as more tears formed.

“Wow man. You _really_ need to stop holding this shit in.”

Edge’s soul froze as he stared around the shed wildly. Stretch was standing ahead of him a frown on his face. _How long had he been here? Had he been here the whole time, or had he teleported in?_

Edge snarled angrily wiping his face furiously. Stretch slumped to the floor lazily next to Edge ignoring the growl Edge gave him, baring his teeth at Stretch like some kind of deranged cat.

“You wanna talk about it?” Stretch asked holding out a cigarette. Edge took the cigarette from the lazy skeleton with a scowl before lighting it with his magic and taking a slow, long, drag.

“No.” Edge snapped. Stretch lit his own.

“You need to let yourself feel it, Edge,” Stretch sighed.

“Fuck you.” Edge snarled.

“I’m serious. It’s killing you. Look at what you did to your shoulder,” Stretch said with a nod.

“Were you fucking following me you piece of shit!?” Edge demanded.

“Look,” Stretch said, not answering Edge’s question, “I know it hurts. And honestly _? It’s supposed to._ ” Stretch said. Edge growled again as the lazy skeleton avoided admitting to stalking him.

“I am _not_ talking about this with you,” Edge said crossing his arms.

“You need to let yourself mourn.” Stretch said sternly. Edge blinked not expecting the strict tone from the laid-back skeleton.

“I _have_ mourned. It’s been four years. I’m done mourning. I’m _fine._ ” Edge snapped. Stretch was silent for a moment staring at Edge.

“There’s not a time limit Edge,” Stretch said softly. “Honestly? The thing no one tells you is, you never _stop_ mourning. Not really. The pain never goes away. It’s always going to hurt.”

Edge flinched surprised from the skeleton’s blunt honesty. He had heard everyone’s sympathies a million times before. _It gets better. You’ll get through this. He had a good life. At least he got to see the surface._

“You’re not fine. You’re not supposed to be fine when you lose someone you love. You're forever changed from it. Your problem, Edge, is you are not letting yourself _feel_ it. You’re not letting yourself grieve, and if you don’t let yourself grieve you can’t move on.”

Edge clenched his fists.

“I don’t want to _move on._ There is no moving on. There’s nothing left Stretch. I work, I spend time with you idiots, I sleep. Repeat. There’s nothing I want from this life, not anymore. What I want is gone. There’s nothing left for me but you lot,” Edge hissed.

“And that’s your problem,” Stretch sighed putting his cigarette out staring at Edge. “You won’t let yourself grieve for Red. You won’t let yourself mourn, and you won’t do it because you’re terrified of moving on. You act like moving on is this great betrayal to Red. I get that, I really do. Why should you get to feel happy, why should you get to live when he doesn’t? Right?”

Edge closed his eyes. “Shut up.”

“I know that feeling. _I’ve been there._ One reset the kid killed Blue, and Alphys, then the kid left everyone else be, left, and didn’t reset for fifty years. _Fifty years_ Edge. I had to accept that the kid was **never** going to reset, I had to accept that my brother was gone **forever**. I know it’s not the same, one because Blue and I are platonic and two because the kid _did_ eventually reset. But I had to live without Blue for fifty years. I had to move on, and I know how hard that is.” Stretch sighed staring ahead.

Edge hadn’t known that. He knew Stretch’s human had done some shitty things, but that was awful. It had only been four years without Sans and it felt like an eternity. He didn’t want to think about fifty fucking years.

Edge stiffened as a long arm wrapped around him.

“What are you doing!”

“Just accept it Edgelord,” Stretch pulled Edge against him wrapping his other arm around him in some kind of backwards hug.

“I’LL KILL YOU! RELEASE ME THIS ISNTANT!” Edge snarled.

“Kill me later. You need this,” Stretch sighed. Edge snarled but gradually let himself sink against Stretch.

“It’s not weak to cry and mourn your brother. There’s no time limit to grief. Its going to hurt, it’s going to hurt forever, but I promise, it will become so much more bearable. There will be days where you hardly feel it at all and days where you can barely stand, but I promise, if you let yourself get through this, things will be much better than they are right now.” Stretch said. Edge rolled his eyes scowling at the other. Stretch gave him a lazy wink.

“If you stop being so fucking stubborn and let yourself feel for Red, and let yourself move on you’ll see there’s things to stick around in this world for besides some obligation to your friends.” Stretch said softly.

“Fuck off,” Edge sighed with no real heat.

“You deserve to be happy, Edge. You deserve **to live.** Just because Red died doesn’t mean you have to stop living. Red would be pissed, you know that? That you just are zombieing your way through life. You’re not betraying him by letting yourself live. You’re not betraying him by enjoying things without him here, you’re not betraying him by. . . by falling in love with someone new.”

Edge froze his soul spasming against his ribcage.

“Falling in love with someone new?” Edge echoed fighting the red blush dusting his cheekbones. Stretch gave him a lazy smile.

“Metaphorically speaking of course,” Stretch shrugged.

“You’re an egotistical dick!” Edge snarled.

“You suggesting you _are_ falling in lov-“

“No. Shut up!” Edge snapped. Stretch’s grin widened. “Shut up!”

“Didn’t say anything.” Stretch said with a twinkle in his eyelights. Edge sighed relaxing in Stretch’s stupid backward embrace, resting his head against the other’s shoulder.

“You’re a dick.” Edge muttered. Stretch chuckled softly, his ribcage vibrating against Edge’s spine. Edge sighed and closed his eyes. Wasn’t it a betrayal though? To get in a relationship after Sans? To fall in love with someone other than Sans? To be _happy_ without Sans?

He was awful. He was **_horrible._**

“Hey.” Stretch said poking Edge’s cheekbone with his long phalange.

“stop!” Edge practically whined swatting the finger away.

“Metaphorically speaking. If you were the one who had died, would you want Red to just zombie his way through life? Never get in another relationship, become celibate? Go to work, visit friends out of obligation, go home sleep, repeat?” Stretch asked.

“Of course not, I’d want him to be happy-. . . you’re a fucking prick Stretch.” Edge scowled at the other. Stretch grinned wide before tilting Edge’s chin up.

Edge didn’t expect the other’s mouth to meet his. He didn’t expect the honey flavored tongue to slide in, he didn’t expect himself to return the kiss. _He didn’t expect it to feel so good._

“Happy New Years, Edge,” Stretch said softly against the other’s cheek. “How about we start the new year by learning to live again yeah?”

Edge swallowed hard, and he breathed out. He tried to let go of the guilt. He tried to let go of the feeling that he was betraying Sans. He tried to tell himself Sans would want him to be happy and would kick his fucking ass if he learned Edge could hardly function with out him. He tried to let go of the overwhelming pain of Sans's death.

He couldn’t let these things go. He couldn’t accept Sans’s death.

But maybe one day he could.

Maybe he could try to learn to live again.

“Yeah,” Edge agreed softly, his eyelights meeting Stretch’s. “That sounds like a good new years resolution,” Edge said before he ran his tongue across the other’s teeth. “I have a few other resolutions in mind."

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY. 
> 
> I just couldn't stop writing this. It had to come out. 
> 
> Life sucks, and its hard and its not fair. But we choose how we deal with it. I think [Edge ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZwCu8u0bzA) will be okay guys. Okay as he can be.
> 
> ***  
> For Andrea.


End file.
